I remember touching her face, I knew it was the last last time. Those atoms would be reborn into something not my mother. I remember as his mother brushes hair from his forehead again again, brings her face to his. I remember hearing mothers lose their heart’s heart, grating guttural suffering. I remember and remember.
Unforgetting, Literature by Sara Coomes
Sara Coomes
Department of Pediatrics
Sara is a visual artist and physician resident who lives and works in Salt Lake City. She finds joy in watching the growing of things and sitting in sunlight. She continues to work on poems that explore the sublime in daily life and the workings of nature.
Voices from the Residents:
2022, "Unforgetting"
2022, "Acceptable"
2021, "Lost Hugs"
2020, "Sweet Magic"
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